"He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering."

Another lagging draft, mainly composed Good Friday night, reflecting on my observation of the Passion and the renewed attention to the priest abuse scandals both here and in Europe.

The NY Times has been having a field day with accusations Pope Benedict failed to act strongly enough against child abusing priests decades ago while heading up the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and as Archbishop of Germany. I’m loath to give the accusers too much credence because too often church critics despise the church and its adherents (I suspect because of both doctrine and its standing in the Christian world). From my perspective, secular critics often cherry pick circumstantial information to suit a preconstructed narrative and would not mourn the fall of the man, or his church (I guess it’s sort of like that old saying of never going to an ex-spouse to get the true measure of an individual; too many people who believe themselves wronged preserve an amazing capability to nurse grievances for years and often use that grievance as justification for ad hominem attacks and slurs when the opportunity arises).

And of the monster priests? Do I believe they were coddled by bishops who confounded their understanding of the mission of the church with the neglect of adequate discipline for corrupt individuals who preyed on children? In some spectacular cases, yes. In others, the desire to be an agent of “grace” to the repentant (or those offenders simply gaming the system) was probably quite a temptation. Sadly, the victims were often simply expected to forgive these transgressions of their childhood and move on.

And now the current holder of the keys of Peter, made explicit in his definition of church dogma ex cathedra magesterium, who to Catholics by definition is infallible with regards to definition of church dogma (at least since Vatican I), finds himself called to account by a hostile media who treats him as if he was the CEO of a business who gave shelter to criminal enterprises of the worst kind. Needless to say, even though we differentiate between dogmatic infallibility and human flaws, there is a tendency within the church to view these accusations as an attack on the foundation of the church itself. As for me, as an intellectual descendant of Martin Luther, I wish the dogmatic authority codified by Vatican I in the person of the pope had continued to be reserved for the College of Cardinals, but I’m not blind to the increasing hostility of certain atheists within the community to all aspects of Christianity and particularly it’s public expression by believers. Faith, for some people, only deserves ridicule.

Within my Christian home, I recognize that Catholic arguments the Reformation would lead to an endless splintering of the Christian community without some allegiance to tradition and church authority are not without merit. One need only look at the long list of splinter Christian “churches” who embrace all sorts of odd doctrinal conclusions (all “biblically based”, of course) with their handful of members (Fred Phelps, in particular, comes to mind as a particularly repulsive representative), to realize it may not be a good idea to tell people anything they discern from their reading of the Bible is necessarily valid. From my perspective, we join organizations and institutions which ultimately may be as corrupt as the darkness which lies within our own souls. They are all things of man, and reflect the flaws of men. So we sit within imperfect institutions, worship our God, and listen to the jeers of the hostile crowd without.

Which brings me back to Good Friday. Pastor Tim this past week during the Tenebrae Service of Good Friday quoted a writer I wasn’t familiar with who claimed almost everybody “gets” the wreckage of Good Friday. We know the wreckage of couples who lacking the passion to renew their relationship, much less fight, and simply quit and walk away. We know the wreckage of the 12 year old girl kicked senseless by a 15 year old classmate for upsetting him with a set of text messages. We hear the voices of doomed passengers talking to loved ones they’ll never grow old with, saying goodbye to the children who they’ll never see graduate school. We hear the unexpected horrifying diagnosis, see the unexpected arrival of a drunk driver careening out of control, have watched the light fade in a loved one’s eyes and felt the warmth and strength of a human hand go cold and flaccid. And I sit in stone cold silence and horror during those moments, where simply continuing to breathe is an effort.

And yet 2000 years ago, this man, this iterant preacher, this innocent, meeting his end subjected to the most foul devices of torture and death the denizens of the most fearful empire of that time could come up, spoke only of forgiveness for his captors. He spoke of love, and said even though we didn’t deserve it, our creator loved us and would create a bridge for rapprochement through his sacrifice. It was said his followers saw him numerous times after his death, the same and yet, somehow, changed. Many of his early followers, rather than renounce their faith in him, went to their own deaths. Believe in him as son of the living God, or not; the world and its’ many faiths have produced few stories like his.

My faith has changed during my life, but my wonder at that story still renews me. The institutions and politics are really just an aside. During my moments of doubt and challenge, the difficult thing to live with as a Christian is not my belief in his resurrection, but the long wait following his ascension.